


Pepper

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: дезинформация [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky, Domestic Avengers, Feel-good, Fun With Confusion, Kissing, M/M, Mature Adults Conversing, Not Iron Man 3 Compliant, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, There Is Humor, Tony Stark & Bucky's Arm, Towels & Guns, mild jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 00:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2290511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Make it stop, or I break it.”</p><p>“Yeah, up, I’m up, I got it,” Tony mumbled, his hand smacking against the wood of the bedside table several times as he fumbled for his phone. Bucky gave him another shove, and Tony let out an undignified squeak, but finally managed to get hold of the phone. Bucky sighed in relief as the terrible ringing ceased.</p><p>Takes place in the future, sometime past <em><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2188008">Vulnerable</a></em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pepper

“Make it stop, or I break it.”

“Yeah, up, I’m up, I got it,” Tony mumbled, his hand smacking against the wood of the bedside table several times as he fumbled for his phone. Bucky gave him another shove, and Tony let out an undignified squeak, but finally managed to get hold of the phone. Bucky sighed in relief as the terrible ringing ceased.

“Y’ello?”

“Ten _fucking_ minutes,” Bucky grumbled after glancing at the clock, pulling the pillow over his head.

A long day had turned into a long night, everyone suffering from a post-battle high that had resulted in actually agreeing to Tony’s suggestion of visiting his favorite karaoke joint as a team building exercise. There had been singing, drinking ( _for Clint, Thor, and Natasha anyway_ ), and critical levels of ridiculous one-upmanship. Thankfully, Tony had arranged for a private lounge, otherwise most of the evening would have wound up on YouTube. Eventually, they could no longer ignore the exhaustion, and had to call it a night. Or day, technically. Again.

As a group, they’d staggered back to the Tower, cursing the sunshine while everyone took turns describing how much sleep they were going to get once they managed to get home, and arguing about when and what they should have JARVIS order them for breakfast.

Of course, as soon as Bucky and Tony were alone together, plans for sleep were tossed aside along with their clothing, some of which was still in the elevator, now that Bucky was thinking about it. The sex had been quick, and just the right amount of rough, desperate, and messy. Bucky was still surprised they’d managed to clean up and make it into the bed at all, afterwards. 

He’d _just_ been drifting off, Tony snoring softly beside him, already dead to the world... And then Tony’s awful, _awful_ phone had started ringing.

“Hey, no, it’s fine,” Tony said, his voice low and gravelly, a side effect of too much singing, and not enough sleep. 

Bucky pulled the pillow off of his head, wanting his glare of disapproval to be fully visible, because he disagreed vehemently with Tony’s assessment of the interruption being “fine.” Tony missed it, because he was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees, his head propped upright by the hand not holding the phone. 

As Bucky watched, Tony straightened up, saying, “Seriously, anytime, you know that. What’s wrong?”

There was a pause—Bucky couldn’t quite make out what was being said on the other end of the line, but he’d recognized Pepper’s ringtone—before Tony spoke again. “Zürich? Wait, I wasn’t supposed to… Okay, good, I don’t actually… Well, there are lots of places I’m _supposed_ to be Pep, I can’t be expected to keep track of them all. What day is it, anyway? Right, good.”

Bucky’s curiosity was piqued, mostly because Tony no longer sounded asleep, his tone fluctuating somewhere between obedient child, spoiled brat, and concerned lover. Whatever it was, Bucky hated hearing it.

“Yeah, no, of course I’ll come,” he said, glancing over at the clock as he stood up. “This isn’t an omelette talk is it, because I… Okay, right. No, no, gimme, _shit_ , I dunno. Ten hours? Hang on, JARVIS?”

“You will be able to depart within the hour, sir, with an estimated flight time of eight hours.”

“Thanks, J. So, yeah… Call it ten, to be on the safe side.” Tony shuffled around in the dark, head down, apparently looking for his discarded clothing, but gave up after a moment. “Okay, Pepper, you’re freaking me out here. Is this an emergency, or not? If you’re dying, I’m getting in the suit… Okaaaaay, then I’m taking the jet. So I can sleep! You’re always telling me that’s a thing people do that I should do more of.”

Tony wandered into the closet, and with a low growl of irritation, Bucky sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. When Tony finally emerged he was thankfully no longer on the phone. He’d pulled on a dress shirt, and suit jacket—neither of which were buttoned—draped a tie around his shoulders, a pair of pants over one arm, and the fact that he hadn’t found underwear yet, and had several visible love bites scattered across his abdomen really brought the whole look together. It would have been hilarious, if Bucky wasn’t busy grinding his teeth, and counting down from ten in his head.

“Let me guess. You’re going to Zürich?”

Tony at least had the decency to look apologetic. He tossed the pants over the back of a chair, then crawled across the bed in order to plant a kiss on Bucky’s shoulder before flopping down mostly on top of him, face smashed against Bucky’s stomach as he made a loud, pathetic, whining sound.

What Bucky wanted to do was smack him on the back of the head. He was tired, and cranky, and, if he was being honest, _jealous_. It was the jealous bit that was really bothering him the most. In an attempt to rise above his feelings, he forwent the smack, settling for sinking his fingers into Tony’s thick hair instead.

There were some noises that might have been words. “Didn’t catch that.”

With another groan, Tony rolled onto his back, looking up at Bucky forlornly. “Come with me?” Bucky wanted to say no out of spite, and Tony must have seen it in his eyes, because suddenly he was all seriousness, and Bucky realized Tony was scared. “She won’t say, but it can’t be good if it can’t wait _and_ she won’t tell me over the phone.”

“Any idea how long we’ll be there?”

The relief that washed over Tony’s face made Bucky feel like an asshole for even considering declining the offer. “Nope. But, hey, let’s try to make it a mini vacation! Pack enough for a couple days, at least, or don’t and we’ll buy new stuff when we get there. I don’t care, either way is fine.”

As if worried Bucky was going to change his mind, Tony scrambled out of the bed, and started dressing again. Moving a little slower, Bucky went about doing the same, up until Tony caught him around the waist, and hugged him tightly from behind. He nuzzled Bucky’s neck, saying, “Thank you,” and just like that, whatever remaining tension he had been holding onto dissipated.

\+ + +

Exhaustion had won out, and despite his normal inability to sleep in strange places, Bucky had found himself blissfully unconscious for the duration of the flight to Switzerland. As soon as they’d disembarked, a car was whisking them off to the hotel where Pepper was staying, which—surprise, surprise—also happened to be where _they_ were staying.

Bucky had handled the whole checking in process, feeling woefully underdressed standing in the lobby wearing his hoodie and jeans, while Tony fiddled with his phone, letting Pepper know they’d arrived. The couple had parted ways in the elevator, Bucky pressing one of the key cards into Tony’s hand with a tight smile, and for the last three hours and eighteen minutes he’d been sitting in their hotel room, waiting for Tony to return.

This left him with plenty of time to think, so he pulled out his deck of cards, dealt a hand of solitaire, and got busy thinking. The thing was, Bucky _knew_ he had no reason to be jealous of Pepper, which was why his inability to suppress the reaction was so annoyingin the first place.

By the time he’d met Tony, he and Pepper had already called things off, and although Tony had admitted they’d had “maybe we made a mistake… wait, no we didn’t” sex a handful of times post-breakup, even that had been a thing of the past by the time Bucky had come along.

She’d moved on. Tony had moved on. And yet, she could call, and just like that, Tony was dropping everything to fly to another country in order to talk to her. Bucky tried to remind himself that Tony would have done the same for Rhodes, or any of the Avengers—he had gone without close friends for most of his life, and tended to go all in with the ones he had now, as if making up for years of lost time.

The conclusion Bucky came to while waiting for Tony to return was that he needed to get to know Pepper better. She was one of Tony’s best friends, and a big part of his life, but so was _he_ , and somehow, they’d only ever been in the same room two or three times, tops.

He was pretty sure Tony wasn’t keeping them apart on purpose. These days, he mostly only saw Pepper during business related excursions anyway, and Bucky hadn’t exactly been doing much traveling since he and Tony had met.

Even after S.H.I.E.L.D. had declared him safe for public consumption, it had taken months for him to feel confident enough in himself to start spending time outside of the Tower alone. That had slowly evolved into some training trips with various members of the team, which had eventually led to his first, actual mission as an Avenger, and so on, and so forth.

Really, now that he was thinking about it, this little jaunt with Tony was the farthest he’d been from the Tower since moving in there. This time last year, he would have been overwrought with anxiety at the idea of something like this, so he took a moment to congratulate himself on the progress he’d made before refocusing on the issue at hand. 

Pepper Potts. 

He didn’t know where he stood with her, and that bothered him. She’d been polite, the few times they’d talked, but it was obvious to Bucky that she didn’t know what to make of him. In the beginning, that made perfect sense. He didn’t know what to make of _himself_ , so it was pointless to worry about Pepper’s opinion; of course she wasn’t going to be thrilled about Tony getting involved with a disturbed and unstable former assassin.

The thing was, they had stayed together, he was far less disturbed now ( _he had the papers to prove it and everything_ ), and he knew for a fact that he made Tony happy. He’d stopped drinking, was much less likely to be heroically reckless, and yet Bucky _still_ got the feeling Pepper didn’t take their relationship seriously. At all.

So, obviously, they needed to get to know each other better. Maybe she’d let him take her to lunch while they were here, and he could put her mind at ease, explain how much he loved Tony, and that he wasn’t going anywhere. If she was Tony’s friend, she’d respect that, which meant he wouldn’t ever find himself in a situation like this again—sitting in a hotel room waiting for Tony to return with the news that Pepper had secretly birthed Tony’s love child, and now wanted them to be a big, happy family.

It was worth mentioning it was Clint’s fault that the idea of a surprise child occurred to Bucky in the first place. One of his hobbies was trolling the Avengers threads on various message boards, and when he wasn’t cracking them up over dinner by sharing the ridiculous rumors he’d come across ( _Tony had several secret children, according to the internet, one of them being Spider-Man_ ), he was disseminating his own disinformation in order to see what sort of trouble he could stir up.

Bucky wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, or sick to his stomach when he heard the beeping of the keycard, opening of the door, and the sound of Tony shuffling into the room, looking emotionally wrung out, but happy nonetheless. He sprung to his feet, game of solitaire forgotten.

“Well?”

Tony smiled wistfully, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She’s getting married.”

Relief washed through Bucky, and it made him feel ashamed; he _trusted_ Tony, he really did, and the man deserved better than petty jealousy. “That’s good news, right?”

“Funny you should ask,” Tony said, a strange look in his eyes as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. Bucky watched as Tony loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes, and flopped down onto the couch, making anxious “come here” gestures with his hands. “I said the same thing.”

As soon as Bucky was close enough to grab, Tony did just that, pulling him down onto the couch, almost crushing himself in the process before squirming around in order to do his best octopus impression. Bucky found himself wrapped up in legs and arms, while Tony made contented noises, and tried to wriggle even closer. In this position, it was hard to remember how he had ever been even remotely jealous.

Bucky shifted a bit so he could get a hand free to play with Tony’s hair, then asked, “So, why the hell did we fly to Zürich like the world was ending?”

“I think she was a little freaked out that Happy proposed, and that she’d said yes,” Tony said, lips brushing against Bucky’s jaw as he spoke. “She started crying when I offered to give her away at the wedding, which, you know, freaked _me_ out until I realized they were happy tears.”

“Crisis averted, then?”

“You smell great,” Tony sighed. “And, yeah, I think so. Err, although… no. Maybe?” He shifted, disentangling himself enough that they could actually see each other, his face scrunched up in thought. “The whole thing was… vibey. Definitely lots of vibes shooting around, like she expected me to be upset.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side, a little flutter going through his stomach as he studied Tony’s face. He tried to sound nonchalant, and failed rather miserably when he asked, “Are you?”

Tony looked slightly amused, but then his eyes widened, his mouth falling open as he gasped, and began pushing himself fully upright. “James Buchanan Barnes, are you _jealous_? Look at your face, you _are_!”

It was impossible to fight off the blush, or the smile, no matter how hard he tried, so Bucky hung his head, and shrugged in defeat. “Ha ha, yes, a _little_ , okay? Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Not sure you’ve noticed, but you’re the young, super hot one in this relationship,” Tony was definitely leering at him now. “The fact that I get to roll around naked with you has already done permanent damage to my ego. It can never be deflated.”

Bucky ducked his head a bit more, not sure why the compliment had caught him so off guard. He’d always thought of himself as handsome enough, maybe even a bit better than some, but that had been before the war, before the Winter Soldier. 

“You act like people don’t regularly throw themselves at you,” Bucky countered, sliding a hand over the curve of Tony’s ass, giving it a little squeeze.

Tony eyed him a little more intensely, eyelashes fluttering as he studied Bucky’s face. “I’m serious,” he brushed his thumb over Bucky’s lower lip, leaving it tingling. “You, my friend, are _painfully_ attractive. You put up with my insanity, and bullshit, and wear incredibly distracting, tight leather pants to play superhero with me and my friends. It’s  so preposterous that I'm still sixty eight percent sure this is an elaborate simulation I've somehow trapped myself in."

“You designed my uniform,” Bucky felt the need to point out. “You only have yourself to blame, pal.”

Tony kissed him, a slow, thorough exploration of his mouth that left Bucky humming with pleasure, and chasing after his mouth ( _with no luck_ ) when Tony finally pulled away. "So, what're we dealing with here, talk to me."

Bucky chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, then gave a little shrug. “Pepper is a big part of your life." Tony’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Bucky poked him, and continued. “And she _should_ be, she’s one of your oldest friends. It’s just… I don’t think we’ve been in a room together for more than ten minutes.”

Tony opened his mouth, then let it fall shut again with a little huff, his brows drawing together. "Huh, you know, I think you're right." He wiggled around, fishing his phone out of his pocket, then began pecking away at it while adding, “Let’s fix that.” He twisted his head around to face Bucky again, fingers never slowing as he added, “Totally not on purpose by the way. Honest.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“Things were, ah, not easy, exactly, for me. After.” He tapped the phone against his chin thoughtfully. “I couldn’t see her without making an ass of myself for a while there, and… yeah, so we just _didn’t_. For a while. She’s not in New York a lot these days. I dunno, maybe the whole Avengers situation is still tough for her.”

It was quiet for a moment while Tony was woolgathering, Bucky content to remain silent, studying Tony’s profile while he waited. Eventually, Tony seemed to come back to himself, grinning sheepishly. 

“Hey, until this whole thing,” he twirled his finger in the air above the two of them, “I thought Pepper was my one shot at the whole,” he exhaled loudly, “you know, happily ever after with another person. Not being able to hack it with her felt like the end of the world.”

“I get that.”

“And _then_ a certain drop dead gorgeous, one-armed bandit came along and stole my heart,” Tony added, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

“So this is my fault?” Bucky asked, rolling them on the couch so that Tony was pinned underneath him. “Sexy, mad genius, billionaire, superhero takes advantage of a brainwashed, time displaced amputee, then blames him for it?”

This earned him one of Tony’s full body laughs. “Thank you for making ‘sexy’ first on the list, by the way,” he said in the most serious tone he could muster. “Hey, my genius brain just had a thought—I should probably take advantage of you some more.”

Tony kissed him then, one of his “I’m mapping the interior of your mouth for science,” type kisses, the sort that never failed to leave Bucky’s pants feeling tighter, and his breathing a little chaotic.

He loved kissing Tony, could do it for hours, or days, and never get bored. Kissing while touching was even better, though, be it tracing the curve of his jaw, or sliding a hand up the back of his shirt to feel the play of muscles between his shoulder blades. Bucky loved cataloging all the places Tony’s skin was rough, or smooth, scarred, ticklish, muscled, or soft. Loved the reassuring hum and slight reverberation of the arc reactor against his own skin, while tasting Tony again, and again.

Tony made the most amazing little noises the longer you kissed him. Not quite moans, not exactly purring, but something in between, his eyes open ( _because Bucky never closed his own, not wanting to miss anything_ ) and hooded with pleasure.

There always came a point, though, a tipping point, where Tony held on tighter, kissed a little rougher, as if he was worried Bucky would suddenly change his mind about the whole thing, or someone would burst into the room and separate the two of them.

It drove Bucky crazy, seeing that wild, desperate look in Tony’s eyes, like gasoline on a fire. It was there now, as Tony rolled his hips and rubbed against him, his hair sticking up all crazy, his lips pink, and swollen, and so Bucky had to tear the man’s shirt open, sending buttons scattering across the floor in the process. Tony just smiled wider, tugging his tie off the rest of the way before shoving at Bucky’s shoulders.

“C’mon,” he whined when Bucky wouldn’t budge. “Clothes, you, out of them,” he demanded, shoving again, then tugging at fabric until Bucky was laughing, and tangled up in his shirt.

He sat up, hardly had his shirt up and over his head before Tony was licking around his navel, hands busily undoing Bucky’s belt. Bucky threw his shirt somewhere behind him, then inadvertently derailed Tony’s pants removal process by tugging his shirt off the rest of the way for him, then going for the undershirt.

Tony made a frustrated noise as he stood up, deciding to focus on his own pants, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s face as he worked. Bucky had forgotten about the marks he’d left on Tony the night ( _or morning, he was a little confused thanks to the travel_ ) before, and at the sight of them he felt the need to pull Tony onto his lap, grab him by the back of the head, and just crush their mouths together.

“You drive me crazy,” Bucky groaned, and to his ears he sounded a little lost. He didn’t feel lost. He felt like, somehow, against all odds, he was _exactly_ where he belonged. 

Tony moaned into his mouth, breathing heavily as Bucky kissed him again, and again, each time a little more insistent, hands sliding down to cup Tony’s ass, pull them tightly together so he could rock against him, the friction amazing, but not enough. It was never enough.

“Get. The fuck. Out,” Tony said, in between sucking on Bucky’s tongue, and tugging roughly on his lower lip with his teeth, “Of these. _Evil_. Pants.”

Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around Tony, keeping him exactly where he was, and Tony’s frustrated noise changed into one of pleasure about halfway through making it, just as Bucky began sucking at the tender spot just below Tony’s ear.

“Vampire,” he muttered, shoving again, and this time Bucky let him get up.

They watched each other hungrily as they worked themselves out of their respective pants, and underwear,Tony hurling his aside as if they had personally offended him, before grabbing Bucky’s and doing the same. Finally, they were naked.

“You, no moving,” Tony ordered.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked, and before he’d even gotten the sentence out there was something being whipped at his head. His reflexes saved him from getting smacked in the face by the lube Tony had thrown across the room, but before he could complain, Tony was back and sinking to his knees in front of the couch, shoving the coffee table out of the way so he had more space.

Bucky spread his legs a bit when Tony pushed at his knees, the hand with the lube still where it’d been when he caught it, the other hovering over the couch as he held his breath, completely enraptured by the sight of Tony wrapping his lips around the head of his cock. He was all flushed in the face, and absolutely gorgeous, and Bucky still had trouble ( _every single time_ ) believing that this was his life now.

Tony’s mouth was wet, and warm, and clever, and he was always balanced on just the right side of not enough and too much, so Bucky couldn’t do much more than moan, and try to keep himself from coming too soon.

Tony’s blowjobs, without a doubt, absolutely wrecked him. He was so good at it, it was almost worrisome—the first time he’d complimented Tony on his skill, he’d gotten a remark about boarding school being good for something after all, the look on Tony’s face prompting Bucky to leave it at that.

It was more than just the feeling ( _but goddamn, did that feel good_ ) it was also the way he would look up at Bucky through his eyelashes, like he was the center of the universe or something, his cheeks hollowed, and flushed. And the _noises_ , wet and obscene, as he put on a show for Bucky. Absolutely, it was a show, his eyes flashing as he pulled off in order to stroke and lick and suck, drag his lips over and around the head of Bucky’s cock until he was whimpering, and then take him all the way into the back of his throat in one long, graceful move.

Tony snapped his fingers, and Bucky realized that he’d been holding his hand out, waiting for the lube. “Sorry,” Bucky said, his voice low, and husky. He dropped the tube into Tony’s waiting hand, but had to lean over and kiss him again, moaning at the taste of himself he could already pick up in Tony’s mouth.

“You are _so_ getting it,” Tony mumbled, “right here, right now. Yup. It’s on.”

Bucky laughed softly as Tony gave him a shove so that he was sprawled back against the couch again, tugging on his hips in order to pull him a bit closer, the laughter morphing into a loud, jagged moan; Tony had skipped ahead, working two lubed fingers into his ass, not bothering with any sort of teasing preamble. 

“I like this plan,” he said, blissed out, spreading his legs wider, and groaning again as Tony picked up where he’d left off with the blowjob.

This was like a little slice of heaven, Tony’s mouth working around him, while his fingers loosened him up, until he couldn’t quite get enough in either direction, wanting to thrust into the wet heat, while also needing to push himself down on the fingers working inside of him. 

By the time a third digit joined the party, Bucky was holding onto the back of the couch for dear life, about two seconds away from coming in Tony’s mouth. Of course, the brat was perfectly aware of this, which is why the bobbing of his head slowed, and then stopped altogether, as he rocked back and stared up at Bucky, eyes narrowed, and hungry looking.

“Hi there,” he said, as if they’d just run into each other while out for coffee or something. It made Bucky shake with laughter, the sound changing to a keening noise at the end as Tony pulled out his fingers. 

Bucky licked his lips, biting into the lower one in anticipation as he watched Tony open the bottle of lube again, working it over his cock with long, lazy strokes, never breaking eye contact.

“Hi, yourself,” Bucky managed after a while, and it felt a little like deja vu, but before he could think on it too hard, he was very much distracted, breathing going ragged as Tony slowly—way slower than was necessary in fact—slid his cock into Bucky.

For a moment, they just got their bearings, foreheads together, but then Tony started rocking his hips, and Bucky remembered that he had arms, and hands, and could use them, and so he tried to touch Tony everywhere, pulling him closer, throwing off his rhythm in order to steal more kisses from him.

Sex with Tony was a lot like flying with him, a sort of wild, whooping, exhilarating experience that left you feeling alive, and hyper aware, and begging him to go faster, trusting he wouldn’t drop you, and that if anything were to happen, he’d be right there to catch you, keep you safe.

“Why,” Tony asked, his face pressed against Bucky’s shoulder, sucking and licking along the scarred joining of skin with metal, “do they even _make_ white couches?” Bucky blinked, and had to look down at the couch they were on, momentarily confused, but before he could answer, Tony was rambling on. “S’okay, I’ll just, uh, fuck you on every piece of furniture in the room,” he punctuated this with a particularly deep thrust, “then buy the hotel. Do it in every other room, too.”

“We’ll alternate floors,” Bucky suggested.

“I like the way you think.”

This was another thing to love about Tony, because it was impossible to be embarrassed, or shy, or anything even remotely approaching that when they were naked, and tangled together. It was like playing, in the best possible way; he was happy to do everything, and anything.

Bucky had wondered once or twice if it had been like that between him and Pepper, but it was hard to imagine her as anything but put together, and classy. Harder still to picture her with her tongue buried in Tony’s ass, making him whimper and beg to be fucked, but then again, Bucky _hated_ thinking of the man with anyone other than himself.

There was a thin sheen of sweat visibly beading up on Tony’s skin, and Bucky twisted a bit so he could lick some of it off of Tony’s shoulder, licked over his collar bone, and neck, and then let himself fall back against the couch again, taking himself in hand, stroking in time with Tony’s thrusts, the salty taste of him in his mouth.

“How are you even real?” Tony growled, his teeth biting down into his lower lip as he watched Bucky touch himself, captivated by the sight of the shiny metal fingers wrapped around Bucky’s cock.

It didn’t take long—he’d wanted to hold off, make it last a little longer, but he just _couldn’t_ , not with Tony hard and insistent inside of him, fucking him with enough gusto that they’d moved the couch across the floor.

So Bucky gave in to the wave of pleasure, head thrown back, a trembling hand holding onto Tony’s shoulder as he came all over the both of them, his entire body shaking with pleasure, waiting on Tony’s answering cry, feeling him pulled over the edge, crashing into Bucky with a shout, until they were a tangle of limbs, and sweat, and semen.

It was quiet for a moment as they caught their breath, Tony reduced to dead weight on top of him, Bucky’s thighs trembling, as he stared at the ceiling. 

“How many rooms in this place?” Buck asked, and Tony started laughing, sounding drunk, or hysterical, the sound smothered a bit by his face being mashed against Bucky’s throat. “I’m not going to see Zürich at all, am I?”

Tony squirmed, and Bucky made a noise of dismay at the feeling of him pulling out, but it was nice to be able to lower his legs again, stretch out, and stare at what an absolutely beautiful wreck Tony was.

“Probably not,” Tony admitted, the arc reactor glowing brightly in the center of his chest as he stood up. “You’re a mess, by the way.”

Bucky looked down at himself—definitely a mess—then at the wet spots on the couch, and shrugged. “Shower?”

“Then room service,” Tony suggested, snapping his fingers.

The water pressure in the shower left a bit to be desired, and it was cramped compared to what was in the Tower, but it still felt amazing. Tony rambled on about how he would redesign the bathrooms once he owned the hotel, while Bucky washed his hair for him, content to listen.

"On second thought, we should go out to eat," Tony said, interrupting himself while in the middle of describing how the handheld showerheads in Japan made him feel like he was getting a little too up close and personal with Doc Ock. "I saw you pack that Ermenegildo Zegna suit."

“The one you ordered me to bring so you could ogle me?” Bucky teased, shoving Tony aside so he could rinse off. “If we’re going out, I’m shaving.”

Bucky climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist before grabbing his shaving kit. He pushed the bathroom door open in order to let some cooler air into the room, then started wiping at one of the mirrors with a towel in an attempt to clear a spot so he could get to work.

Just as he reached for the shaving cream, he heard something. Acting on instinct, he reached for the Glock he’d hidden in the bathroom. Tony tended to forget he was a target, but Bucky never did—before the game of solitaire, he’d also swept the place for surveillance devices, explosives, and then secreted weapons throughout the place, in case he needed them in a pinch.

“Antoshka, zip it,” he ordered in Russian, and Tony stopped his singing, head popping out from behind the shower curtain. “We have company.”

“Where the hell did you get a gun?” Tony hissed, eyes wide at the sight of a half naked Bucky standing in the bathroom with his pistol drawn. 

Bucky gestured rapidly at the door, indicating there was at least one person out there, possibly armed, before yanking the extendable makeup mirror off of the wall. He approached the door cautiously, gun held at the ready as he used the mirror to peer into the room. Just as he caught sight of their visitor, they heard, “Tony?"

"Hey, it’s Pepper!" Tony said, sounding relieved.

Bucky sagged, and glared over his shoulder at Tony. “Did your ex seriously just let herself into our hotel room?”

Tony’s expression shifted from relieved to appropriately mortified, and a lot confused. “Um.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Bucky muttered, clicking the safety on the Glock before tucking it between the small of his back and the towel.

He ignored Tony’s little, “Hey, wait,” protest, and walked out into the room to find Pepper stepping over what looked to be Bucky’s pants, her pretty face scrunched up in confusion, and perhaps mild disgust. There were clothes everywhere, and it stank of sex. With each step, her heels clicked loudly against the floor, and the confusion seemingly mounted.

“Can I help you?”

Pepper jumped, almost dropping her phone in the process as one hand went to her mouth, the other to her chest, letting out a little scream of surprise. “Oh my god,” she stammered, and Bucky watched her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush pink as she finally noticed him standing there, watching her, wearing only a towel.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she managed, blinking a few times before looking away in embarrassment. As he watched, she began jabbing at her phone, head shaking. “I am so, _so_ sorry! I’m going to _kill_ Tony, he must have…”

Whatever she’d planned to say was forgotten; Tony’s phone began vibrating its way across the coffee table while simultaneously treating them to Cake’s _Short Skirt/Long Jacket_. For one long, awful, eternal moment, Pepper stared at the phone, her expression growing darker, until she ended the call, and the phone went silent.

Then she looked up, and Bucky realized exactly what was going on. “Hey, genius, get your ass out here,” he barked, maintaining eye contact with Pepper. It was obvious she was about two seconds away from a full on explosion, her mouth a tight line, and her face bright pink.

The shower turned off, and Tony popped out of the bathroom a minute later, wrapped up in a fuzzy bathrobe, hair plastered to his head. He took one look at Pepper, then at Bucky, and blurted in a panicked voice, “What did I do?”

“You,” Pepper started, pointing to him with her phone, “ _idiot_.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously completely surprised, looking to Bucky for support. “What?”

“Antoshka,” Bucky began, surprised at how calm he sounded. He was about to lose it himself, although ( _unlike Pepper_ ) he wasn’t mad—he’d finally figured out why she didn’t take their relationship seriously, and it was so ridiculous, that, well. Only Tony. “You never told Pepper?”

Tony looked absolutely confused, especially when he looked back over to Pepper, finding her with her arms folded across her chest, eyes narrowed. “What… Of _course_ I did, why would you say that?”

“No. You. Did. Not,” she insisted.

“But I talk about him with you _all the time_ , Pepper, what the fuck?” 

Tony looked legitimately upset, so Bucky took pity on him, and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, giving him an affectionate squeeze. Tony looked over at him, pleading with his eyes as if worried Bucky thought he had been hiding things from Pepper on purpose, but then looked away as Pepper answered him.

“Yes, you talk about him _all the time_ ,” Pepper agreed. “Telling me how much I’m going to love him, and what a great guy he is, and that he’s handsome, and funny, and all _my_ favorite things. So _I_ thought...” She paused, her angry facade cracking for just a moment, so that Bucky could see the smile hiding behind one of her hands before she cleared her throat and continued, “I _thought_ that you were trying to fix us up!”

It was quiet for a moment, but then Tony was sputtering. “Pepper, that is the most _insane_ —why would I want to set you up with _my_ boyfriend? He’s _mine_!” As if to make this clear, Tony grabbed hold of Bucky’s arm and shook him hard enough that he had to make a grab for the towel before it was knocked loose. “You’re with Happy!”

“Because you never told me he was your boyfriend,” Pepper insisted, throwing her hands in the air. “Tony, you _jerk_ , I’ve been thinking you disapproved of me and Happy, and…”

“What the hell, Pep? I told you, I swear, I’m pretty sure it was the night we made it official, even. James, help me out here,” he spun to face Bucky, “we were at the restaurant, I even said, “Pepper will be proud,” or _something_ , and…”

“Then they brought the food,” Bucky interrupted, “and you forgot about Pepper, because you were too busy stealing my sausage.”

“Okay, first, _phrasing_ ,” Tony said, holding up his finger, “second…” he trailed off, eyes shifting around as he thought things through. “Okay. Wait. Wait wait wait…”

“Apparently, we’ve been having two very different conversations,” Pepper said, the anger long gone, affectionate exasperation having taken its place.

“Ah,” Tony said, understanding dawning. “This is why you looked so upset when I told you I’d brought James with me to Zürich.”

“ _And_ why I came to answer you in person after getting a text telling me,” she pulled up the message and read outloud, “Pep Pep Pep, this is an amazing opportunity! I’ll keep Happy occupied, and you have dinner with James. You won’t regret it. Promise.”

Tony stood there with his mouth open, a soft groan escaping.

Pepper sighed, shaking her head and looking at Bucky. “I am _so_ sorry, this is why I’ve been avoiding you, and New York,” she said. “I would love to have dinner with you.”

“I think I’d like to get dressed first,” Bucky said, giving her a smile that had Tony making a little noise of protest, “if that’s alright by you?”

Pepper looked him over again and shook her head, “I suppose, if you must.”

“Okay, see,” Tony began, but Pepper cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“You and Happy can come, too. I’m going to go tell him the news.”

Tony scampered after her, walking her to the door, all while sputtering a string of apologies. Bucky shook his head, and was about to head back into the bathroom when he heard, “Oh, hey, before I forget, I want to buy the hotel.”

“ _Tony_ ,” he heard, said in the way that only people who really, truly loved him could say his name, “you already own the hotel.”

**Author's Note:**

> SEX. *cough* Also, Pepper confusion. Couldn't resist it. Bucky's hair cut is up next!
> 
> Got a question over on Tumblr. I’ve been writing / imagining this series as nonlinear, which works in my brain (my brain is often wrong) and thus when posting installments to AO3, I’ve left them in the same shuffled order they were written in.
> 
> [BTW, if you’d like a quick way to have all the stories in chronological order, I’ve made [a Google Drive](https://drive.google.com/folderview?id=0BzqD3ISTddEIei00bk1WOG5XNU0) for the series. Share and enjoy.] 
> 
> Would it be more/less confusing to have everything presented chronologically, even if a new installment might come in the past, thus making Part 3 become Part 4?


End file.
